


Evening Tea

by Bunbrigade (BunBrigade)



Series: The Simple Life [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, F/F, Irish Emily, Medical Conditions, Other, This is a happy story I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-02-11 08:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunBrigade/pseuds/Bunbrigade
Summary: A Horse Riding/Country themed AU - Focused on Lena Oxton's personal struggle in the competitive horse jockey career, and the leap of faith that leads her to love at first sight.“I was gonna say... that your freckles are r-really cute.”“What?”“I didn’t want to be too cheeky,” Lena chewed at her bottom lip “I’m so sorry Miss, I’ll just-”





	1. Anything

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: Please read the tags and be aware this fic deals with sensitive subjects such as eating disorders, medical issues from ED and medical trauma. This is coming from a place of best intention and a personal understanding of my own ED, not every single person's experience. I tried to stay very close to the medical truth and not glamorize ED in any manner. 
> 
> Also, I want to be clear that this is a happy story with a happy ending and I want to see a healthy happy Lena as the fic progresses, but it goes through some bumpy roads in the first few chapters. I will try to alert in every chapter, thank you for going into this difficult subject with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please read the tags and be aware this fic deals with sensitive subjects such as eating disorders, medical issues from ED and medical trauma. This is coming from a place of best intention and a personal understanding of my own ED, not every single person's experience. I tried to stay very close to the medical truth and not glamorize ED in any manner.
> 
> Also, I want to be clear that this is a happy story with a happy ending and I want to see a healthy happy Lena as the fic progresses, but it goes through some bumpy roads in the first few chapters. I will try to alert in every chapter, thank you for going into this difficult subject with me.

It’s amazing how naturally it comes to a person to rationalize bad habits. How quickly we can learn to explain away or provide perfectly logical reasoning for things we know, deep down, are killing us. 

For instance, years and years ago jockeys would sustain on 600 calories a day, the famous ones only having tea and the rare cigar. Some even dried out their salads in the sun to trim out the water in the leaves. The clever ones- when ipecac to be sick, lasix to purge any water, and laxatives to void the rest still weren’t enough- they made homemade brews known to spontaneously explode and drank them willingly. Let’s not even go into the strategic use of parasites. 

Anything was worth it to slip below 9 stone and secure a ride. 

When people hear that they surely thank their stars to be born in this era. They’ll happily believe it’s in the past. Which is perfect for those still finding the best ways to make tack weight. 

Lena wasn’t much aware of weight till around her 14th year; 2 years into her formal training for flat racing with thoroughbreds. She’d thanked her lucky stars every day for her small frame after learning the average jockey height and weight. What luck puberty had been such a light affair! She knew several other trainees already worrying over their feet length, sure it spelled disastrous growth spurts in their future. One girl in her group would press at her knees and massage at the growing pains, stress plain on her face. 

At 16 years Lena secured an understudy jockey position for one of the best flat race champion breeders in the whole United Kingdom. From there onward she just had to keep being the best and her path to glory would unfold, it was assured. Four years of grueling days, short nights and ever earlier mornings was more than worth it. Anything was worth it to ride. About seven months past her 16th birthday that became clearer than ever. She stood in her room, trousers pulled up just above her front-bottom...unable to close the button. Her chest felt tight, the world too small, and a familiar shortness of breath was leaving her light-headed. She slung off the offending denim and slumped to her bed, hands pressed to her chest as it hammered away. Her vision swam, inky black spreading till she couldn’t focus on the mirror any longer, a blessing really. 

That offending bit of pudge over her belly was all she could remember when she awoke nearly an hour later, late to her birthday brunch with friends. It had to be that pair of trousers. Mum washed it wrong and it’s shrunk. That’s all. Lena tried to shrug it off as she pulled on a loose pair of joggers and headed out. 

No matter how many times she ran that through her head, it's just shrunk, that's all, she couldn’t bring herself to do more than pick at brunch. Nodding along to her friends and opening the gift from them all through a haze. 

Her hands drifted to her belly, ghosting over the soft pudge at first, but gripping it tightly by the end of the week. Her parents didn’t think much of her taking a bit longer on her daily jogs, nor did they notice when she skipped biscuits and tea. Lena thought back desperately to what she’d heard the other trainees saying on protein versus carbohydrates and their effect on metabolism. But it felt worthless when three weeks later she was no closer to fitting those damned trousers. She’d even slid into her parent’s bathroom to step on her mother’s scale a few times and it seemed like she’d gained a kilo or two. Even her hips looked wider. That couldn’t be right. 

The plan was a morning jog before breakfast, two eggs and tea, training/running the horses for hours, a smoothie for lunch, back to training, a quick workout before homeschooling, then lean fish with salad for dinner followed by an evening jog. Somewhere along the way breakfast became one egg and tea, sans sugar. The lunchtime smoothie became a sweetened tea, then became a bottle of water. Her dinner was fish or a salad, never both. Then it became half portions, and maybe a cup of tea if she ran a bit longer than usual. 

Two girls and one boy left the program that year, growth spurts and hormones pushing them too far out of the flat race weight class. They could always try for a more steeplechase focused farm if they didn’t gain anymore that was. Lena overheard a few her trainers conversing one day. 

“You hear they’re back on wanting to change the weight class restrictions?”

“Oh no shit, when aren’t they?”

“Should be happy we all aren’t in the states! We’re plenty loose on weight already. Really, they’re just embarrassing themselves now.” The one spat.

“True, true. Gotta have parameters. Some people will meet them, some won’t.”

“Exactly, gotta draw the line somewhere!”

“Maybe they’re not cut out for the profession. If a couple a biscuits and crisps are worth more than the good o’ the saddle.”

”Mmhm.”

Lena backed around the corner, her legs shaking- though she told herself that was determination. That wouldn’t be her because that wasn’t her. Anything to ride. 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

The summer going into her 20th year was unusually warm, with thick clouds trapping in the humid summer air. But Lena knew the trick was to put a positive spin on anything. A free sauna wherever she went, even during her midday cardio, would help sweat out her morning cup of black tea. 

Her lips ached along all their cracks as she bathed the horses. But today was the day. It would all be worth it after today; the extra jogs, holding off from drinking more than her morning and evening tea, and the missed meals. No more understudy, today she’d be picked up as a lead jockey and start her real career track. And the beautiful thoroughbred she was currently scrubbing down was going to take her there. Go Speed Racer Go was right in the middle of his career as a gelding of five years, but they’d been training all season for this race. Lena knew it would all pay off. 

She sailed through weigh in, just under eight stone while in full tack wear. As they lined up at the gate her trainer ran through everything. The thoroughbreds fed into their gates, and the crowd placed their final bets; it all faded away. The world narrowed to a pinprick, just her and the amazing beast below.

Lena felt her heart race, adrenaline spiking through to replace the calories long starved out and she found the strength to post up just as the gates flew open wide. Racer was flawless beneath her, long legs seeming to glide between their thundering gait. This was it, finally. She felt her soul lighten and as her body soared with the amazing gelding the whole world seemed to lighten. She knew the other racers had to be there, but they weren’t with them. They couldn’t touch them anymore, they were light itself. 

The last turn lay ahead and beyond it the finish line and the screaming crowd. It all meant nothing compared to this. Lena watched as the line drew closer and knew they had won, but the world was too light. So bright her eyes hurt and her body ached, almost like a hot poker beneath her skin. It all kept growing ever quieter as she drew closer. 

The next thing she could remember seeing was the winner’s circle and outstretched hands that kept her saddled. As soon as what she assumed were the flashes of cameras subsided those hands were pulling her down, taking her down from the light, and the darkness rushed in. 

She was later told she had hit the dirt quite literally, face first. She awoke in another bright place, a hospital room with her parents beside her and a nurse there to ask too many rapid questions. She felt emptied out in every regard- everything ached. 

They asked her about her fainting spells. She’d had a few this month but declined to say exactly how many. When Lena described the hammering in her chest that predated each fainting spell the doctor and nurse both looked affronted as if she was insulting them. Apparently, she’d been admitted with her heart rate south of 40 bpm, which was dangerously low. They couldn’t pinpoint the cause and were left unable to diagnose with too little information. They asked her about her diet, her exercise routines, and any substances or vitamins extensively. Her mother cried when the doctor tried to press further. Lena told her it was a silly misunderstanding, that she was just dehydrated from the race on such a hot day. 

Her mother hugged her too tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was a real tough chapter I'm sorry! Thanks for sticking through it though sadly I can't say the next is any easier. It should post before Christmas week. Chapter 3 will start to lighten things up I promise!!
> 
> I adore feedback and am always tickled pink to talk to other fans- let me know how I'm doing!  
> Or if you have any concerns with the topics in this fic.
> 
> art tumblr BunBrigadeArt  
> twitter @TheBunBrigade


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: This is the roughest chapter as far as active ED is concerned. Be warned this chapter is where all those tags come into the story. I will include a brief summary in the bottom notes for those who wish to skip this chapter specifically. 
> 
> To SKIP the medical trauma only stop at -«« She wasn’t sure when exactly her lungs ran out »»- and start up at -«« The world outside was »»-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please read the tags and be aware this fic deals with sensitive subjects such as eating disorders, medical issues from ED and medical trauma. This is coming from a place of best intention and a personal understanding of my own ED, not every single person's experience. I tried to stay very close to the medical truth and not glamorize ED in any manner.
> 
> Also, I want to be clear that this is a happy story with a happy ending and I want to see a healthy happy Lena as the fic progresses, but it goes through some bumpy roads in the first few chapters. I will try to alert in every chapter, thank you for going into this difficult subject with me.

By the time Lena was 22 years she’d been to hospital several more times, though never so dramatic as the first time. She’d figured out a balance to keep herself stable on and off the track; it was under control now. And she had arrived. After some assurances of her health she’d been picked up as a full time jockey for one of the biggest owners in the world of flat racing, and nothing would take that from her. After a long day with the horses she made enough now to rent her own little flat close to the farm that she could jog home to. After a quick workout routine she’d settle into an epsom bath for 40 minutes and relax. Once she pulled out the excess water she could have a few ice chips while her evening tea brewed. She’d slice a section of lemon off and place it just so on the saucer, along with the mug and a spoon. Sitting on the couch and watching a show or two, she would squeeze in the lemon slice, after picking out the seeds one by one, and then slowly sip the warm brew.  
It was a treat to look forward to, the sharp citrus was a burst of flavor in her day. Her perfect cup of lemon tea. 

Then it was off to bed, before the day started fresh again. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

It was nearing the end of the summer, which meant the Epsom Derby was on the horizon; the jewel she needed to secure in her bosses crown this season. She was more than ready, despite the late August heat. Her fainting spells were coming more often as of late, but she was better at spotting them now. She could stave them off with pressure to her chest, blowing out all her breath and holding it till her heart slowed again. Lena had a pride for the control she had on her body at this point. It ran on minimal input, while still allowing her to output her maximum effort, and she wasn't doing anything radical after all. At this age she was in the minority to not be eating and voiding her stomach before matches, or chewing caffeine tablets for their diuretic effects. She just showed more control over her daily life was all. 

This week was momentous for the future. The previous year she’d won the owner second place in the King George VI Stakes, first in the speedy King’s Stand Stakes and third in the Champion Stakes. They'd sung her praise all year long. This was her chance to show they weren’t one time wins, that she could be so much more. Lena had her sights set on being a full time rider to secure an off-season training position. She'd be set throughout the year, not worried about being hired back for every ride or fighting against the other riders at weigh in. This would put her on track for a legitimate place in the farm. 

The owners had bought several new breedings the past two years, filling out the stable with up and coming foals. But their pride and joy was a colt turned stallion just this year, near black in how dark his bay coating was. Slipstream Jet, named after his sire SkyHigh Jet, seemed to radiate power. Lena soaked it up, knowing this had to be her luck, no her destiny to ride this winning stallion. They had worked harder than Lena had ever before with a single horse. One week to go till victory. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

Truth be told, Lena didn’t remember much of that hot and muggy day at the Epsom Derby. She didn’t remember lining up at the gate, Slipstream eager and perfect as ever. Nor did she remember the crowds or her coach screaming last minute reminders. Others had filled in the gaps, leaving her wishing they hadn’t bothered. 

What she did remember was flying. They were untouchable. She was sure that beautiful horse had taken away every breath at the Derby, not just hers. The too bright light had been there, waiting for her to venture too close and be burnt up, but Lena had leaned into it willingly- sure that Slipstream could outrun it all. 

She wasn’t sure when exactly her lungs ran out, or when the light had won over but her fellow jockeys from the barn said she’d nearly crossed the finish when Lena dropped to the track. Slipstream ran nearly a whole nother lap around the track in the chaos. The rest she did remember, cruel fate left the memory as her skull hit the dirt and her lungs screamed for air. The pack of horses she had been lightyears away from crashed over her; limbs snapping like twigs beneath their thunderous gates. There had been an ear-splitting crack from within her chest, she’d known the sick sound meant the end. Her feeble heart had exploded. Maybe it had finally finished it’s revolt against her and she could slip away from it all. 

The EMT on staff had different plans, supposedly. They had jumped her heart and dragged her back after a brief spell of being legally dead. Her bones, weakened from nutrient loss, had been rather susceptible to the breakages. She’d needed surgery for three cracked ribs, one leg broken in 2 places, a punctured lung and surprisingly minor head trauma. And of course they had installed her with a defibrillator soon as she was stable. 

And so her 22nd year came to a close, bruised beyond recognition, career as shattered as her leg and a pocket sewn into her skin. The long days at the hospital dragged by in a drugged state of pain and confusion. Lena was aware of her parents, and visiting coworkers and the constant flow of hospital workers but not much else pierced the haze. 

Apparently her body fat count had dipped low enough that the stitches pulled through her skin, slowing down recovery. The doctors released her into her parent’s care for a brief period, forced onto a strict and specific liquid diet. But she barely remembered arriving at their home before the infection had set in inside the surgery site and a burning fever left her unconscious once more. 

It was mid december before Lena was deemed safe to leave hospital but her flat lease had lapsed and she was rather useless as it was. She was officially 23 and moving back into her childhood bedroom in her parent’s home. 

The world outside was coated in a delicate blanket of snow, and the house began to smell of seasonal spices but with no physical outlet the thought of holiday food only left Lena feeling ill. Her parents offered her nibbles of mince pies and mulled wassail far too often and she had no way to escape or ditch the offered treats. The looks in her parent’s eyes seemed to sit between terrified and so very tired, and for the first time Lena felt the gnawing of guilt for her diet. She wanted to insist it was none of their business what she put in her body, despite their taking care of her at every instance of the day...but the words always died in her throat. She would simply pick at the little pie, mushing it about till her mother pretended not to stare any longer. 

The day before christmas eve Lena sat up in bed, leg sore from physical therapy and the metal pins within, dazing out at the white scenery. She watched as cars crawled by, trying not to focus on the fullness in her stomach from the lunch protein shake she was prescribed. Outside the prescribed therapy she had quietly refused any trips outside the house, thankfully the early snow had made her parents rather agreeable toward it as well. 

She fidgeted with the day old news paper, folded it smaller and smaller till it was too taut to compress any further, and then flicked it across the room carelessly. Out of paper to keep her idle hands busy, she dug them into her too long hair to feel the built up oils. Lena hauled herself up onto her crutches to hobble across her room to the standing mirror. It took several deep breaths and several more internal debates before she braved stepping into the mirror’s judging gaze. 

Rationally she knew it wasn’t the mirror hating every little detail it found; she even knew her own brain was exaggerating its hatred. The doctors had explained it plenty. Yet still all she could see were her arms, too pouchy and squished over the crutches; that incurable bump over her belly; and the fat bunched at the top of the medical boots. Although she couldn’t see much of her legs, what she could see churned her insides. Her skin looked to be the wrong tone while her hair hung heavy and matted with oils. Lena had always tried to keep it tied tight and out of the way. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. Overall the picture before her was just wrong the longer she stared.

She made her way back to the bed and fell onto it, too empty to fuss over the jolt of pain down her side. As she returned to her new position as ‘silent watcher’ a cabbie stopped just down the street, idling in front of her neighbor’s home. She watched a figure fold out of the small car; they seemed to tower over it, tall and solid with bulky outerwear on. The mystery person grabbed luggage out of the boot and waved the cabbie off, turning toward her parent’s house. A strange tingle spread throughout her body and Lena wondered absently if she had accidentally doubled up on some medication before the outline of the lumbering form pinged recognition in her. 

She was hauling herself out of the bed again and onto her crutches by the time the doorbell rang downstairs. Her heart sped up for what felt like the first time in months- It couldn’t be!

Her father answered the door as her mum spun circles about her trying to help her down the stairs. Lena stubbornly craned her neck about, trying to catch a glimpse of the visitor. Her mother let out a happy little laugh, hugging her gently. The gleam in her mother’s eyes would have confirmed her suspicions if she wasn’t already all but flinging herself and her crutches into the arms of her dear friend.

“Winston, love! It’s been too long!” Lena pressed quick, rough kisses against the whiskers covering his face.

“I should have known a few broken bones wouldn’t slow you down.” The man chuckled, taking her full weight with ease, and guiding her back into the warmth of the house. 

“What are you doing here, you big lug! And why didn’t you call to let me know?” Lena pouted. 

“I thought it would be a little christmas miracle from the states! Well...and I wasn’t sure I’d make it in time.”

She squinted at his sheepish grin, there was something off with his gaze but she pushed the thought away and continued to fuss about him while he took off his outdoor layers. 

“Hmm, well I’m thrilled you made it big guy, it really has been too long.” thinking back it had been close to 7 years since her childhood friend had headed off for school and an apprenticeship in the states. Woah, time had gotten away from her. 

Her parents convinced her to let Winston set up in the spare bedroom/office while she helped her mother with dinner. They wouldn’t be able to catch any pantomimes this year with Lena’s medicine, physical therapy and exhaustion point controlling their schedule so strictly, but her mother was determined to keep as many traditions flowing as possible. Suddenly the holiday seemed worthwhile, and she thanked her mum for the warm holiday aura in the home. It was something she had largely ignored over the past few years. 

As they gathered around the television to watch sappy christmas reruns while munching on chocolates, mince pies, and sipping brandy (lemon tea for Lena), she leaned into the comforting warmth of her best friend to feel the darkness lift ever so slightly. It even seemed as though breathing felt easier in that warm glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it through ya'll! That should be the roughest the story gets as I do want to focus on recovery.
> 
> Summary of chapter: Lena continues into her spiral of controlling her food/liquid intake and exercise. Her fainting spells continue but she forces through them by tricking her body. She faints, falls off a new prize thoroughbred and breaks several bones/punctures a lung, and is legally dead for a time. She requires surgery and a pacemaker; her body struggles through fighting infection and healing. She is moved in with her parents while healing mid holiday season and struggles with the holiday food surrounding her. An old friend comes to visit! Its Winston, yay! But he seems a little off, so...what could be wrong? 
> 
> I adore feedback and am always tickled pink to talk to other fans- let me know how I'm doing!  
> Or if you have any concerns with the topics in this fic.
> 
> art tumblr BunBrigadeArt  
> twitter @TheBunBrigade


	3. The Thoroughbred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to lighten up with some Holiday cheer! (Thank goodness for friends and warm beanies.) Lena and Winston take a few very needed trips outside the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: Please read the tags and be aware this fic deals with sensitive subjects such as eating disorders, medical issues from ED and medical trauma.

The Holidays at the Oxton’s were always a grand affair, and this year seemed out to prove nothing had changed. Fresh garlands sat on nearly every surface, twinkling lights covered the outside of the property as well as the towering indoor tree that scraped the parlor ceiling, and everywhere you looked offered up winter delicacies.

Winston seemed to bask in the familial warmth every chance he got, and Lena found little else brought her as much joy as his smile. They’d grown up as neighbors and best friends for most of their childhoods, despite him having a few years on her, building huts outside behind the sparse shrubbery. They even cobbled together their own teetering ladders to make hopping the fence between their gardens that much more convenient. She had missed the companionship more than she had realized in the past 7 years. 

Winston had left for college before she had even entered year 11, and had only returned for the sudden funeral of his father. She couldn’t say why they hadn’t talked more than, perhaps she had dropped the ball somewhere in reaching out more. But that wondering can’t change that Winston had left shortly after the house sold. Lena received a Christmas card several years later from a small nowhere town in the states. It was still a bit hard to get straight in her mind, but what mattered now was her friend had returned. 

She found herself snorting with laughter and even wiggling or bouncing in place with too much energy as the holidays arrived. Her stunning mother had ordered a few gifts for Winston in advance, bless! And Lena relished hiding in her room, fighting with the tape and scissors to wrap them on her bed around the awkward medical boots. Winston took to riding with her to therapy and helping about the house to ease her parent’s loads and they showered him with gratitude. Mostly through his favorite peanut butter banana breads and pulling out some very outdated and overly complicated board games for them all to play in the evenings. 

She wished his trip had been only light and warmth, filled with these moments. One particular event put a stop to the easy reunion. Lena had only meant to wash her hair, truly. Winston had helped her prop up on a tall stool from the kitchen bar in front of the bathroom sink and stepped out while she scrubbed at the oily mess. She scrubbed it as clean as she could and rinsed, but still felt heavy and decided to follow the bottle and ‘repeat’ the motions. After the third wash, she ran her hands through the dark brunette strands and pulled them back, smoothing them flat to her scalp. 

Lena shook herself back into focus once the mirror fogged over and she realized the hot water had still been running. Her eyes landed on her father’s trimming set and it felt like she was on guided tracks. First, it was just a bad trim back to her old length. Then she found herself cutting just a bit more, and a bit more. Before she stopped the thought occurred that she should have put down a towel; the sink was covered in thick, wet chunks of hair.

“Lena?” 

“Yeah?” She tried to pitch her voice high and cheerful.

“Oh uh, no hurry- just making sure it was going alright.” Winston sounded nervous. Which made sense when she remembered her parents were out grabbing last minute groceries and had left Winston to help Lena. 

The worry in his voice nearly broke her heart. 

She started to scramble to scoop up the clumps of hair from the sink and bury them in the small trash bin. She wrapped a towel around her head and hoped she still had that old beanie from their ski trip when she was still in school. 

Winston smiled sheepishly as she hobbled out of the bathroom, flushed from the steam and probably smiling a little too much. 

“I hope I didn’t rush you, I’m still nervous to be in charge at someone else’s house. Even after living on my own for uh like forever now.” Winston chuckled, and made his way downstairs, calling out, “I just put on a kettle if you’d like?”

“Yeah, sure big guy. Ah- Thanks!”

She slammed her door closed and began the cumbersome task of digging through her closet while balancing on crutches. It didn’t take too long to find the orange beanie, yet Lena felt a sheen of sweat from the awkward exertion. The towel dried the short hair fairly quick, and she jammed the hat down over it all. It was totally normal to be in a pull-over with a beanie, inside with the heater and fireplace on...totally. 

As she made her way to the stairs Winston met her at the bottom, ready to help in case a foot or crutch landed wrong. 

“Thanks, love, it really means the world you’re helping out so much. I’m sure mum and dad are plenty tired of my clumsy limbs crashing about!” She giggled, flopping down on the sofa. 

“You know they aren’t and don’t worry about it, really.” Winston smiled, setting down two cups of tea and a few Christmas nuts in a bowl, the cracker set nearby. “Uh so, was the water cold?”

Lena pretended to busy herself with the tea, screwing her face in confusion, “Nah, why you saying that?”

“Just...it’s a bit warm inside and you’re layered up pretty well?”

She could tell from his tone there was a point he wanted to prove, but she wasn’t sure how he’d known so fast. After she’d fussed with her tea for entirely too long, and cracked a few nuts for good measure, Lena ran both hands over her thighs. She made the mistake of looking up into those bright eyes full of worry. She reached up and jerked the bright beanie off, and ruffled the short choppy mess beneath. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

The silence stretched on a beat too long before Winston let out a breathy laugh, as if he was relaxing.

“Wow! Exciting! I’ve never seen you with different hair, I don’t think ever.” 

“God I know, I don’t know why I did it, so stupid Lena.” She curled in, shoving the beanie back on. 

“Lena, no. I mean, you might need more practice with cutting hair but its uh, cool! I’m no expert on cool or fashionable cuts,” he rubbed at his scratchy beard too far gone to call stubble,”But I like it!”

“You do not. Don’t lie, Winston.” Lena found herself pouting.

“Hmm. I’ve got an idea. C’mon before the stores all close!” Winston bounded up and made to call a cab. 

Lena squirmed with nervous energy and jammed the beanie back on before allowing him to haul her up onto her crutches. Out into the world the day before Christmas Eve. 

\-----------------------------------

Snow fell in fat gentle flakes, sticking to everything but the stubborn rooftops being warmed from within. Lena tore her attention from the window back to the chaotic mess of the lounge. The floor was littered with strips of brightly colored wrapping paper and their newly revealed treasures. Lena set her tea down around the mess to run her hands over the shaved back and tossle the short tufts on top. The short cut showed off her competing cowlicks, though the stylist had insisted that was a popular look now. 

Her father was heckling Winston, both men laughing in earnest, over a new game they’d picked up for the young man. Her mother was a comforting warmth at her side as she leaned in to peck her cheek, rubbing a her forearm in a tender motion. Lena smiled shyly as their matching brown eyes met, both alight with the warmth of the evening. 

“Was it a good Christmas for you, love?” her mother crooned, pushing some Lena’s fluffed hair up and out of her face. 

Lena dropped her gaze to the brand new bomber jacket that her mother had presented her, and the new package of beanies and matching scarfs from Winston. He had insisted they were needed to replace the mane of hair she had used to warm her head and neck before. 

“Best yet, mum. Thanks, for...everything.” Lena leaned into the woman’s warmth, not sure how else to thank her parent’s unending patience with all of her many difficulties. They both fell silent as Winston began explaining the rules of the game and settled in for a long battle. 

Later on, as Christmas dinner was spread out before them Lena manages to eat a bit on her own, no supplementary shake needed. And it is hard as hell for her, every bite, but its a step forward.

\-----------------------------------

Boxing day rolls around and her parents decide to avoid the crazy shopping rush this year, cleaning up around the house but mostly lounging after the Holiday stress. Winston, however, has a goal in mind and after helping clean up the house he stands before Lena, drawn up to his full height. 

“Lena, I think you might know what I’m about to say.” Winston huffs, clearly determined. 

“Winston I told you, I did my morning stretches!” she whined.

“No, I believe you. But there's somewhere we need to go.”

Lena let the silence stretch on, racking her brain for any appointments they’d set, but who besides department stores was open on Boxing day? She stared past Winston, face blank and confusion only growing. He seemed to wilt the longer she failed to grasp his meaning. 

“The...somewhere you haven’t been in a while? Somewhere you love?” his eyebrows drew up in a hopeful way.

Somewhere she loved...where- oh. Oh. 

“The barn.”

Winston grinned wide at her guess, confirming their apparent destination. Her throat went dry. 

“I- I don’t know love, it’s a bit of a sore spot still you know.” She tried to laugh but it was strangled in her throat.

“Well, yes I figured it would be. But that’s why today is perfect! Most of the riders and trainers are off visiting family, the Owners are out of the country for holiday and, and uh any workers have already come in for feeding till tonight!” Winston stammered out his thinking as he pulled on his thick coat.

Lena felt like the ground was moving below her but she felt unable to stop it next to Winston’s excited reasoning. She felt herself pulling on her new jacket and beanie, she’d grown fond of a bright blue beanie mixed with a white scarf but she couldn’t spot it as her eyes jerked about the foyer. It came into view, suddenly looping about her neck, her mother’s smiling face soon followed suit. She was smiling with so much joy that her eyes were nearly creased shut. 

“Lena I am so proud of you and how much you’ve been growing these past few months. You are so strong. I know it has to be hard, but this could be good, sweetheart.” she wrapped Lena up tight in the scarf, buttoning the bottom of the jacket for good measure.

“I know mum, I just….” Lena didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She didn’t feel strong.

Winston’s phone chimed, signaling their ride had arrived. She tore herself out from under the comfort of her mother’s grip and followed him out the door. If she just kept following, one step at a time, she could keep her mind blank. 

The drive passed by in the blink of an eye, yet it felt as if she had aged during it. They stepped out onto the gravel drive leading up to the sprawling barn. Most people would probably balk at something so massive and well maintained being called a barn. Even Lena, who had practically lived at the facility, now felt daunted in its shadow. 

Pristine white walls led into a double U-shaped structure, two-thirds being stalls of horses worth more than most people’s homes, and tack rooms to rival a movie stars closet space. The last third was the grand arena, ground always raked to flawless undisturbed patterns unless occupied; the high vaulted ceilings were lit at all times by simplified chandeliers. Several smaller buildings hugged the edge of the building for feed, storage and wash shops for the horse’s baths. Surrounding it all were several large grazing pastures and spaces set aside to work the horses in their routines. The less expensive horses were currently turned out, Lena recognized them milling about the closest field. Winston was most likely right on there not being anyone here in the early afternoon. The prized horses were turned out early and watched over by several workers as they went about their chores. 

Winston walked beside her, slowing his long gait to watch over her on the uneven ground. It was easy enough to post up on the fence and switch between each leg taking her weight. Her mother must be partially right, she was getting a bit better at staying vertical. 

For the first little while, the two sat in silence, watching the horses idly chew at the ground or watch them back, ears showing a general boredom. They were no strangers to...well, strangers stopping to watch their daily relaxation. Lena watched the familiar faces a bit closer, there were only a few new horses and any foal worth keeping would be tucked inside the barns with their stellar mothers. 

As she watches one face in particular grabs her, familiar white snip resting just barely toward their right nostril. Deja Vue was an old friend and as she calls out to the older mare she springs forward in an energetic trot. Lena extends a shaky hand, struggling to control her breath as Deja bumps into her hand repeatedly, knickering out a greeting. The mare wastes no time shoving her face in and around Lena’s waist, leaning out past the fence, making it clear she expected a treat from Lena. 

“Sorry ol girl, I didn’t think to bring anything,” she does feel guilty, and slows her affectionate petting of the mare’s coarse mane.

Winston clears his throat and lifts a small black canvas backpack he had brought with them and produces a small plastic bag stuffed with apple slices. 

“I brought a few carrots too, just to be safe.” he huffed out, chest swelling in pride for his forethought. 

“Oh bless, you big smartie!” Lena giggled out.

She held out a hand as flat as possible, presenting the fruit slice to Deja who wasted no time wrapping her goofy pink and white lips around it. The mare was gentle to a fault and had never been the top in speed but her muscle tone was a sight for any trained breeder. She had provided several amazing foals over the years and two of her own colts, now fully grown into geldings, made their way over now. The three were close and one of the gelding, the younger of the two, was a right card. He was always huffing out at anyone who walked by trying to call any attention to himself and getting into anyone’s business who ignored him while within reach. He was a perfect caricature of his breed, a hot-blooded thoroughbred. The gelding, called Classic Cadet, was whining out a reprimand at Lena, demanding his own treat. She happily gave one to him and another to Deja. 

The third horse, Deja’s eldest child still at the farm, was a gentle thing. He always responded best to respect for his own space and gentle guidance throughout his routines. His namesake was his breakneck finishing power, able to hang in the pack till the final lap, pulling forward in the last few lengths. Go Speed Racer, who everyone had their own nickname for, waited patiently for his own slice, and leaned heavily into Lena as he chewed on it. He was a dark bay, same as the other two, though you wouldn’t know it. His dark chocolate coloring taking on a warm hue next to Deja and Cadet's near black bay coats. 

As the three nudged at her and sought out more treats, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest. Their breaths all mingled in the cool evening air, forming a white cloud between them. Lena’s heart pinches, and for a second she's panicked something is actually wrong, but it was just her ‘heartstrings’ pulling at the still fresh wound. Not any physical scar tissue but at the very real truth that her career as a jockey was over. She would never take her partner out to fly across the dirt tracks, leaving everything behind. She was stuck. Too young in her career to claim enough experience to teach the future riders at the farm, and too broken to saddle up herself. She was destined to sit idle and fade into a stranger to everyone here, even these sweet three.

Her breath hitches and she's pulled from her spiraling thoughts. Salty tears had soaked her face, gathering at her chin for the new scarf to absorb. Lena really hadn't realized how much she had missed the horses. More than her friends from school, more than the other riders, she had missed them so terribly bad. She sniffed and hastily wiped away the tear tracks, hoping she hadn't made much noise. Lena glanced at her friend to check.

Winston held out his own carrot and Cadet was on him in an instant. Two more thoroughbreds had wandered over, curious on what the little family of three were hoarding. The two were half-siblings, Ultraviolet and Royal Blue, and were similar shades of gray; their beautiful coats were matted with sweat showed how hard they’d been playing in the field. The old mare took the chance and wandered off, not willing to muscle through the more youthful crowd forming around Winston. Her mellower son stayed, pressing into Lena’s side and now that she noticed it, he even seemed to be putting his weight on the fence itself. She pulled back, making sure to keep his neck tucked tight to her as she looked over the gelding. He hadn't been as recently bathed as the others, and she could see a slight shake to his haunches. 

Sure enough, his back leg was wrapped from hoof to mid-leg just below his knee. From the wrap job it had to be a bigger incident, yet if it had been a fully broken bone he wouldn't be standing here now. Ethics called for quick disposal of a horse suffering or with an open wound with exposed bone. 

She pushed down the cruel thought that pointed out she wouldn't be here, and how simpler that would have been. _This is not the time for that, brain,_ Lena thought bitterly.

Racer was getting older for a gelding race horse. He was reaching the end of his prime when injuries became less likely as speed dropped off, and as a gelding had no chance of retiring as a breeding stud. Suddenly the full impact of what his injury meant hit Lena square in the chest, halting her breath. No chance to stud, no use in healing him up at this age just to reinjure later, which meant no worth left to the horse. 

He was headed for auction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit late for 'holiday cheer' so I decided to make this chapter a bit longer (try double) to make up for the wait! 
> 
> I adore feedback and am always tickled pink to talk to other fans- let me know how I'm doing!  
> Or if you have any concerns with the topics in this fic.
> 
> art tumblr BunBrigadeArt  
> twitter @TheBunBrigade

**Author's Note:**

> I adore feedback and am always tickled pink to talk to other fans- let me know how I'm doing!  
> Or if you have any concerns with the topics in this fic. 
> 
> art tumblr BunBrigadeArt  
> twitter @TheBunBrigade


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